DragonLord
by IcedMercury
Summary: Harry takes over his life and disappears for the summer. Once back he begins to search for a mate only to be blocked at every turn by Voldemort and Dumbledore. Join Harry as he deals with changes in his life and what it means to be a Lord of Dragons.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling as does the Harry Potter world.

**Chapter 1: Getting Free**

Harry stared out the open window of the car as the buildings and crowds of people flashed by. A woman was screaming at her child for wandering into traffic. A couple of teenagers flashed by on skateboards, only to be chased off by a constable on the corner. A businessman in a dark brown suit covertly exchanged packages with a bum sitting in an alley. A warm breeze blew through the window, ruffling Harry's hair and making Dudley whine to his parents in the front seat. A moment later the window was rolled up and the breeze was gone.

But Harry saw and heard none of this. His thoughts were on the events that transpired at the end of his last term at Hogwarts. Again in his mind Harry saw his godfather, Sirius Black, fall through back through the archway. Harry had a hard time accepting that Sirius was really gone, that the archway was really a doorway to the underworld.

Harry felt a prickling behind his eyes and a tightening in his throat. He took a deep breath and tried to move his thoughts onto another less depressing subject. He was unsuccessful here, as his mind immediately turned to his friends. While Ginny and Neville were in and out of the hospital wing in a matter of minutes, Ron and Hermione were still recovering. No one knew the full effects the brain would have on Ron and he was under close supervision by his parents for any strange behavior. Hermione would forever carry the scar from the unknown curse cast by death eater Antonin Dolohov. She would be on potions for the next month to counter the effects.

Once again Harry had endangered his friends because he blindly rushed into a situation. He got his godfather killed, his closest friends injured, and proved to everyone that he was as reckless and unbalanced as the newspapers claimed. The only good that came from the whole thing was the Ministry was finally forced to admit that Voldemort was back and a real threat. It didn't matter that Harry had been saying that for the last year.

Harry shook his head and focused his thoughts on the here and now. He noticed the car was passing the part of town where the Leaky Cauldron was located. In a slip-second decision Harry called out to his Aunt and Uncle. "Stop the car. Let me out here!"

Instead of listening to him, Uncle Vernon simply glanced at his through the rear view mirror. "Why should we let you out? After what your freaky friends said to me," here his face took on a deep purple flush before going pale. This cycle repeated a few times as Vernon remember the accusations followed by the monstrosity of freakishness that was Mad-eye Moody.

Harry did a little digging around in his pockets and came out with a handful of gold galleons. "I'll make it worth your while if you stop and let me out."

Vernon's eyes had latched onto the gold and Harry could practically see the greed warring with the fear in his eyes. The greed won, because Vernon stomped on the breaks and brought the car to a sudden stop in the middle of the street. Twisting around as much as a man his size could, Vernon reached his arm over the back of the seat and swiped the gold right out of Harry's hand. "Fine, get out, but if your freaky friends come asking about you, we'll tell them you left all on your own."

Harry quickly opened the door and scurried out, he barley had enough time to get his trunk onto the pavement before his uncle stepped on the gas and tore up the street. Harry watched them go until a car honked behind him and reminded him that he was still standing in the middle of the street. He dragged his trunk to the sidewalk as he got his bearings. He recognized the area as being only two blocks from Charring Cross Road where the Leaky Cauldron was.

As Harry dragged his trunk up the sidewalk he tried to think about what he was going to do next. The decision to stay in London had been a rash and swift one, he had no plans beyond getting to the Leaky Cauldron. He did know, however, that he was tired of having his life dictated for him by the media, the ministry, and all the adults in his life who thought because they were older they knew what was best for him. No one had been looking out for Harry since his parents had died and he was left on his Aunts doorstep. He had been forced to defend himself from bullies, mainly his cousin Dudley, before he went to Hogwarts and once there he had defended himself from death eaters, giant snakes, dementors, and Voldemort. All this he did without help from the adults in his life. Why did they think he needed their help now?

Once the Leaky Cauldron was in sight Harry turned his attention to the problem of getting into the wearing world without being recognized. Pulling his trunk into an alley he opened it and took out the largest shirt he had. It was a castoff of Dudley's of course and would have easily drowned Harry had he ever worn it. Using all his strength Harry was able to tear a strip from the hem. This he tied around his forehead, under the fringe, to hide his scar. It wasn't a great disguise, and might actually attract more attention than not, but it was better than nothing. repacking the remains of the shirt into his trunk, Harry proceeded into the Leaky Cauldron.

He kept his head down as he walked to the door and was satisfied when no one shouted his name or seemed to recognize him at all. Approaching Tom, the innkeeper, he announced in a gruff voice that he had business to do in the alley and would like to leave his trunk behind the bar. Tom was more than happy to accommodate this poor man, who seemed by his poor fitting clothes, to be rather down on his luck, but he could only hold the trunk for the rest of the night and if it wasn't removed by the morning it would be turned over to the authorities to be claimed from them. Once free of his trunk Harry proceeded out the back door and into Diagon Alley.

Harry walked down the cobbled street, keeping his head down and eyes off the people rushing around him. The mood of the alley was subdued now that confirmation had come from the ministry that Voldemort was back. People walked quickly between shops and talked in hushed tones. The laughter and cheer that filled the air during Harry's previous visits were gone, replaced by furtive glances and suspicious questions. Harry could feel eyes on him, but luckily no one seemed to recognize him.

He had decided that while he might not know where he was going or what he was doing he would need money so his first stop would be Gringotts. He had used the last of his gold to bribe Uncle Vernon and would need to replenish his supply from his vault if he wanted to do anything.

As Harry reached the ivory building that held Gringotts bank, he adverted his eyes from the poem written beside the doors. One thing Harry had learned during his stay in the wizarding world was that magic came in all different forms, that sometimes, just reading something could activate a spell. This is what happened when someone read the poem at Gringotts, they bound themselves to an unwritten contract to not steal from the bank and take the punishment if they did.

Harry joined the throng of people entering the building. It seemed that many people were withdrawing money from Gringotts today, the threat of war definitely made people doubt the safety of their money with Voldemort running around. Harry waited in line behind a small family of four. The father was tall and lean, dressed in stiff black robes. He kept glancing around nervously and his hand was clenched tight around his vault key. The mother was equally thin but a head shorter then her husband. She kept a tight grip on the hands of her children, two small boys, about seven years in age. Once the family reached the counter, the father leaned in really close to the goblin, who's nametag read Axegrinder, and whispered the account number and name of the family, glancing around the whole time. A goblin Harry recognized as Griphook was called forward to escort the family to the cart that would take them to their vault.

Harry stepped up to the counter and greeted the goblin, "Heath and riches to you Axegrinder." Harry had read the traditional goblin greeting in a book on magical creatures the last few days of the term. He has spent many nights in the library, sneaking in under his invisibility cloak and reading until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

"Health and riches to you sir." The goblin looked surprised by the polite greeting, used to dealing with humans who treated him like office furniture. "What can Gringotts do for you today?"

By extending the name of Gringotts the goblin had offered all the services of the bank, not just a ride to the vaults. Harry was surprised at the consideration and the shock must have shown on his face because the goblin leaned across the desk and whispered to him, "Gringotts honors those who honor them. What can we do for you?"

Harry raised his hands to his head and lifted the strip of cloth to reveal his scar.

A slight widening of the eyes was the only change in expression the goblin made. "I understand sir, you will want to speak with our Head of Special Accounts, Chief Goblin Firedome. His office is down the hall, I'll have a goblin escort you."

Harry was again surprised by the goblin and, after readjusting the cloth to cover his scar, he followed the smaller goblin that had come forward at a motion of Axegrinders hand. 'Down the hall' actually meant down the hall, through two rooms full of busy humans and goblins working over mounds of gold silver and copper coins, down two more seemingly endless corridors, a left at a painting of four richly dressed goblins around a table, a right at a statue of a griffin, and up a long sweeping staircase. Finally Harry was left to wait in an antechamber while the small goblin went through a huge set of golden doors.

While he was gone, Harry took the time to examine the room in which we waited. The doors were etched with a magical creatures such as griffins, phoenix, thestrals, unicorns, and hippogriffs Harry even thought he saw a basilisk wrapped around the doorknob. The walls of the room were ivory marble flecked with gold. The floor was similar but rich Persian rugs were placed at intervals to deaden the echo of the room. Expensive looking paintings were hung in large frames made from precious materials like ivory and platinum, also woods like ebony and mahogany. Harry was standing before one of these paintings, a dignified goblin dressed in rich red velvet robes lines with gold brocade, in a wooden frame of an interesting crimson.

"Founder Gringotts in a frame of blood wood, most appropriate wouldn't you so?"

The voice was deep and cultured and, most surprisingly, came from Harry's elbow. He looked over to meet black eyes of the goblin beside him. This goblin was much larger than any Harry had seen previously, only about a foot shorter then Harry himself. The goblin was also dressed in an extravagant way, a long acromantula silk robe of deep green with bronze embroidery over black trousers and black shirt with the same bronze embroidery of twists and vines. Harry wasn't an expert by any means, nowhere near Hermione, but he thought he saw a few ruins for protection and health stitched into the designs near the goblins throat and wrists.

"Chief Goblin Firedome?" Harry asked the question as the bowed deeply in the goblins direction.

The goblin bowed back just as deeply, "Yes, and may I say First Lord Potter, it is an honor and a privilege to finally meet you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A Meeting with Gringotts**

Harry stared at the goblin, not comprehending the words spoken to him. First Lord? What in the name of magic was a First Lord? Harry opened his mouth to ask but he was waylaid by the voice of Firedome.

"First Lord Potter, I am immensely pleased that you have come forward at this time, there are several irregularities in your account that I would like to address with you. If you would please follow me into the other room," here the goblin gestured toward the open doors.

Harry followed the regal figure into the room. A large mahogany desk dominated one end of the long room, framed on either side by towering floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Thick hide bound books were assembled neatly on the shelves, several more book were laid open on the desk their pages yellowed and cracked with age. The walls and floor were the same gold flecked white marble that made up the antechamber. Here though, the walls were decorated with crests, a few of which Harry recognized as belonging to the Black and Malfoy houses. One crest, larger than all the others, hung directly above a fireplace that took up the majority of the left side of the room. It was a brown and gold griffin standing on its back legs, wings slightly spread, facing a blue and silver dragon, also on its back legs. Between them stretched a banner with the words, virtus quod vires, written in stylized calligraphy.

"Courage and strength," murmured Firedome from behind the desk, his eyes also on the crest. With a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, the goblin turned his attention back to Harry. "First Lord Potter, please be seated," the goblin motioned with his hand toward one of the two large plush chairs situated in front of the desk.

Harry carefully took a seat, a little apprehensive about what the goblin might tell him.

"Tea?" Without waiting for an answer Firedome pulled a small cord attached to the wall near his desk. Within seconds the door had opened and a goblin much smaller then Firedome had entered. Dressed in plain black robes with the Gringotts crest over the left breast, the goblin carried a silver tray with a plate of pastries and a Dresden china tea set with two cups. This was set down gently on the desk between Harry and Firedome and the goblin left without a word.

A few minutes were taken while Firedome served tea for Harry then took a cup for himself, drinking only after Harry had first taken a sip from his cup. With a soft satisfied sigh Firedome pulled one of the larger books toward him, a truly mammoth tome bound in rich blue hide with silver fastening, and looked at Harry, "First Lord Potter..,"

"Harry, please call me Harry," requested Harry before the goblin could continue.

"As you wish, Harry, and you may of course call me Firedome." Once Harry had nodded his head to the assertion, Firedome continued. "Harry, I'm not sure how much you know about your family and your heritage but you are a very important person in the world. Let me first explain my position here at Gringotts. I am the Head of Special Accounts and as such, in charge of all major accounts here at Gringotts. I personally handle the accounts of every member of the Wizengamot as well as most of the department heads in the ministry. Your account, however, is by far the largest and most extraordinary account under my purview."

Here Harry had to interrupt, "It's the largest? I know there is a lot of money in my vault, but there are surely people in the wizarding world with more galleons then that."

Firedome looked Harry straight in the eyes and spoke in a solemn voice, "your vault? Harry, that particular vault is for spending money, where you can draw money from for small things you might want growing up or while in school. Larger expenditures, like monthly payments made for your provision and care and school tuition are taken from one of your large family vaults."

"Wait," Harry nearly shouted, "Monthly payments? Care? What payments?"

Here Firedome paused in is dialog, and looked at Harry in shock. After a glance down at the pages of the book in front of him the goblin spoke this some reservation, "First Lord..Harry, I'm speaking of the payments made each month into the account of one Vernon Dursley, I understand that he is your uncle."

Now Harry was the one in shock, "Money was given to Uncle Vernon? For my care?"

"Yes," said Firedome, "a lump sum of £100,000 was deposited into the account at Lloyds TSB Bank in Surrey, England the night you were given into the care of your relatives. As soon as we received the paper stating they had taken full charge of your care, I sent through the payment myself."

"Wait," once again Harry was in shock and couldn't keep silent. "They signed papers agreeing to take me into the house? They always acted like I was a burden to them, a useless waste of space that did nothing but eat their food and good for nothing but the chores I could do for them."

A flood of anger filled Firedome at this admission, though only a spark of it showed in his eyes. Goblins are very protective of their offspring, mainly because they are so rare in goblin society. While goblins are very long lived, in comparison to humans, thirty or forty years might pass between children. And with the decimation of the society by so many wars and rebellions, the rarity and value of offspring had increased immensely in the last several hundred years. "Yes Harry, both your Aunt and Uncle signed a consent form before taking you into their home. By signing this consent they swore to provide and care for you in a way befitting your status in our world. This would mean providing you with the best education, nutrition, and entertainment."

Harry was fuming by now. All his life spent wearing Dudley's cast-offs and sleeping in a cupboard and he should have been living like Draco Malfoy, having the very best of everything. More than every Harry felt the weight of his relatives hatred for him.

"Additionally," continued Firedome, oblivious to Harry's thoughts, "a further stipend of £10,000 was deposited once a month with another larger sum of £200,000 given once you started at Hogwarts. The assumption was that you would require some private tutoring and supplementary reading for you to be knowledgeable enough to assume your role in society once you reach your majority."

Harry raised his head from the back of the chair where he had laid it after the shock of the betrayal had worn off. He realized with a sudden flash of clarity where the money had come from that paid for all of Dudley's toys and the lavish vacations the Dursleys went on that Harry was forbidden from. It had all been his money, he bought those things! And yet, he had a belt taken to him if he so much as breathed on any of Dudley's things. The injustice and unfairness of the situation poured through Harry. The tea set still on the desk before him began to vibrate rabidly with the force of his anger; a strong breeze ruffled the pages of the books laid on the desk.

Firedome raised himself from behind the desk and stepped around it to stand by Harry. He took Harry's hand in his and instead of trying to talk to him and calm him down the goblin merely stroked the back of Harry's hand with his thumbs. Harry focused on that sensation, the slightly rougher texture of goblin skin and the calluses one acquires from any kind of physical labor against the soft unblemished skin at the back of his hand. This distraction, slight as it might have been, was enough to break Harry's anger and allow him to take some deep breaths.

Once Harry had calmed down, Firedome stroked his hand for a few minutes longer before letting go and returning to his seat behind the desk. There he poured Harry a new cup of tea and gently pushed it in his direction.

Harry took the cup shakily, having to use both hands to avoid sending it into his lap. A few silent seconds passed while Harry sipped his tea and Firedome pretended industry with his books to give the young man a little time to college himself and his thoughts. Once Harry had calmed considerable, the warmth of the tea taking the last of the shock from his fingertips, he set the cup back onto the tray and looked at Firedome. He was tired of pretending there wasn't a problem with his relatives, tired of protecting them from the wizarding world when all they had done was lie and steal from him.

"All my life I was bullied and beaten. My cousin Dudley would chase me around the neighborhood, and if he could catch me he would beat me up. 'Harry hunting' he called it, and my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon only encouraged him. Petunia," Harry made the decision in that instant to never call either of his relatives Aunt or Uncle again, "would slap me across the face for things Dudley did but I was blamed for. Things like tracking mud across a floor I had just cleaned. More than once she has hit me with a hot pan from the stove." Here Harry turned his head and pointed out a scar almost lost in his hair behind his left ear.

"Vernon though, he loved to beat me. If he was having a bad day, or he got reprimanded for turning up at work drunk, which happened quite frequently, he would take it out on me. I wear a glamour regularly to prevent my friends from seeing the scars across my back. I was never allowed to go on any family vacations, vacations I know realize I paid for. I was left with an old lady down the street, Mrs. Figg who, it turns out, is a squib sent to watch over me by Dumbledore. I wasn't allowed to eat sometimes; they would lock me in the cupboard under the stairs, which for the first ten years I was with them was my bedroom, for days."

Firedome waited a heartbeat until he knew Harry was done talking, "Harry there are several legal actions that can be taken against your relations. Most notably, cases for child neglect and abuse can be filed. This would ensure they were punished for their treatment of you." Here he paused and waited for a reaction from Harry.

While Harry knew that such a course of action would no doubt be highly public, with Harry the boy-who-lived being the abused and neglected one, it might also show people that Harry would no longer take abuse from anyone. So Harry nodded his head at Firedome to show his assent with that course of action.

After quickly making a notation in another book lying open on the desk, the goblin looked back at Harry. "Since that situation has been cleared up, I would like to discuss another topic with you. This topic is your inheritance, both from your parents and your godfather Sirius Black."

Harry felt a strong pang of sadness in his chest and a stinging behind his eyes. In the last few days he had come to accept that he wasn't responsible for Sirius' death. He had, after all, exhausted every action he could, he had checked at Grimmauld Place and spoken to a trusted adult, no matter that Snape was antagonistic, he was still trustworthy. There were several people that were more responsible then Harry for Sirius' death, mainly Voldemort, Bellatrix, and even Dumbledore.

"As the last remaining Potter it is to you that all the titles, money, land, and responsibilities fall. As the primary beneficiary of Lord Black's last will and testament, you also gain titles, money, land, and responsibilities from him. There may also be things we don't yet know about and will need to conduct an inheritance ritual to see if you are the beneficiary of any other estates."

There was one question that had always bugged Harry and he thought now would be the time to ask, "Why doe-did Sirius have access to his vault? I thought the vaults of convicted criminals were sealed or frozen or something?"

"There you are correct; vaults of convicted criminals are frozen at the request of the ministry on the appearance of their trial record. As Lord Black was never given a trial his records could not be passed over to Gringotts. His vault was never frozen."

Harry took this as just another example of the failures and injustice committed by the ministry.

"Now," said Firedome, "I have here a list of properties and assets belonging to the Potter family." Here he passed over a sheaf of papers to Harry, who picked them up and began to look through them.

"All of this is mine?"

"Yes First Lord Potter, as the last heir to the potter line, everything belongs to you."

Harry gazed stunned at the long list of properties, heirlooms, shares, and liquid cash that belonged to him. "I own shares in the Daily Prophet? Potter Castle? Wait, I own 4 Privet Drive?" Harry could barely stand the astonishment that came with knowing he owned the house his horrible relatives were living in.

"Yes, the house was given to your mother upon the death of her parents," commented Firedome after consulting the book in front of him. "Upon your Aunt's marriage your mother let her sister and brother-in-law reside there until Vernon attained stable employment."

A flicker of dark enjoyment came into Harry then, as he thought of the look on Vernons face when Harry kicked the whole family out of the house. Instead of demanding repayment for the money never spent on him, Harry would instead sell number 4 and force his relatives to leave their perfect home which would never have existed in the first place without the generosity of Harry's own parents. Harry told these thoughts to Firedome, stipulating that he, Harry, wanted to be the one to tell the Dursleys. Firedome agreed to start the proceedings necessary to vacate and sell the property.

"Next order of business is your godfathers will." Here the goblin took a sealed letter out of his desk and handed it over to Harry.

Harry Potter was written on the front of the yellow parchment in spidery black handwriting. With a hard swallow Harry turned it over and ran his thumb under the wax seal, embossed with the Black crest. He pulled out the letter and began to read:

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this then I am no longer with you. I hope I went out with a spectacular bang or fighting to protect those I love. And I do love you Prongslet, I want you to know that no matter how I died, it is in no way your fault. It was just my time to go. I am happy to be with James again._

_Now, finished with all the sappy stuff, let's move onto what I left you, which is just about everything. I have left some money to Remus, make sure he keeps it, and to the Weasleys. After a few more small bequeaths to charitable organizations, I leave everything; land, shares, heirlooms, and money to you. Don't spend it all in one place, or do, as long as you have fun with it. With all this comes the title Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. I know you already have enough titles but this will open doors for you in ways the Potter name might not._

_Also, as my last act as your godfather I have filed papers to have you emancipated in the event of my death. That means, as of right now, you are legally and formally considered an adult with the ability to use magic outside of school and apparate._

_Harry, I don't know if you realize it, but you are a very important person in the world. With becoming an adult you are now able to realize your potential and claim your place in society. But before you decide to deal with all your responsibilities, have some fun, go a little wild._

_All my lover,_

_Sirius_

Harry carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope, blinking tears from his eyes. He felt the last of the guilt lift from his chest, it had just been Sirius' time to go, and it hasn't been Harry's fault at all.

Firedome gave Harry a moment to compose himself before continuing, "With this new title you may present yourself as either Harry Potter or Harry Black, however, your formal title is First Lord Harry Potter-Black of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses and Potter and Black. After we conduct the inheritance ritual we will determine if more titles are to be added. You are also one of, if not the, most wealthy persons in the wizarding world."

Harry thought the title was quite a mouthful and decided to stick with one of the shorter versions whenever he could. He was floored, however, at the news that he was considered the wealthiest person in the whole wizarding world.

"Before we move to the ritual there are a few more things we need to discuss. Due to your inheritance from your godfather, and your resulting emancipation, an audit was conducted on your accounts and there are several irregularities."

"Irregularities besides the payments made to the Dursleys that I didn't know about?"

"Yes, from your reaction to that news, and your lack of knowledge on that subject, I feel it prudent to go over all withdrawals from your accounts since your parents died." Firedome slid another sheaf of papers across the polished surface toward Harry. "As you can see, significant amounts of money were subtracted from your account prior to your arrival at Hogwarts. We here at Gringotts assumed the money was being taken out for your care and upbringing. However, from your reaction earlier, I gather this is not so."

Harry looked dumbfounded at the list, over the last 14 years since his parents died millions of galleons had been withdrawn that he had never seen. "If it didn't go to me, where did all the money go? And who took it?"

"At this time, the answer to those questions is mostly unknown, but an investigation will be started to attend to the matter."

A wave of anger and relief warred within Harry, he was angry that someone had been stealing from him, from his family! And yet he was relieved that the goblins would be investigating the theft. Harry knew now harshly goblins took thievery, and that no matter who the person or people where, they would not get away with it anymore. Harry looked back down at the papers he held and his anger began to rise once more. Most of the transactions were marked as having been instigated by an unknown party; however, a few had names next to them, such as the Dursleys and Hogwarts for tuition. Harry recognized two more names and it were these names that really made his blood boil. They were the names of Ronald and Ginevra Weasley.

"Ron and Ginny? They took money from me? How? Why? When?"

"Yes, some of the money taken by the unknown party was then transferred into accounts under the names of Ronald and Ginevra Weasley. We are unsure what the payments were for but they started the summer before you started Hogwarts. We at Gringotts have yet to determine whether the other members of the Weasley family are involved but we will now as soon as the investigation is completed."

Harry had never felt so betrayed in his life. Ron and Ginny, his friends, had been stealing from him. If they had ever asked for money he would have gladly given it to them, they didn't need to steal. His emotions were in turmoil, wind began to pick up again, turning the pages of the sheaf he held, the china began to rattle once more, ringing an a clear frightening way. Once again Firedome walked around the desk and came to stand by Harry. Taking his hand in his, Firedome repeated the actions of earlier until Harry had calmed down.

Returning to his seat, Firedome asked softly, "Is it common for you to have episodes like that? When your emotions effect objects around you?"

The young man was at first surprised by the question, but after thinking for a minute he responded, "Yes, I think they are fairly common. I blew up my aunt once when I was angry. That was a few years ago and since then I have rattled dishes and such. Doesn't everyone?"

Firedome shook his head gently, "No, it is rather unusual for someone your age to have bouts of accidental magic. In fact it is so unusual; I would like to have a healer check you for magical or mental blocks. It could be that your magic isn't able to grow and expand as much as it needs to, resulting in it lashing out when you get particularly emotional."

At Harry's consent, Firedome pulled the cord once again and requested a healer from the small goblin that stepped into the room. Not five minutes later a middle aged witch entered the room.

"First Lord Potter-Black, may I present Healer Janna Winterfrost, primary healer at Saint Mungo's Hospital."

Harry rose from his seat and greeted the woman, "Healer Winterfrost, it is an honor to meet you," Harry gave the woman a slight bow as he took her hand, "I hope you will be able to help me in this matter."

The woman, standing about three inches taller than Harry himself, something that made him cringe mentally, gave the impression of being made out of snow. She was very pale in every way. Her hair was so blonde as to be almost silver, her skin luminous in its pallor. She had amazing green eyes though, as green as the summer grasses of Ireland. She was dressed all in white, typical for a healer, with a band of silvery blue around the hem denoting her status as primary healer.

"It is a pleasure to be of assistance, First Lord," responded Winterfrost in a slightly gravelly voice. The voice was so in contrast with her appearance that Harry found himself smiling hugely at her. "Now what can I do for Gringotts and the First Lord today?"

Firedome had stood up when the healer entered and now motioned that she and Harry should be seated. Both men waited will the Healer had taken her seat before sitting themselves.

"I have asked for your presence," started the goblin, "because it is my belief that First Lord Potter-Black.."

"Please," Harry interrupted, "both of you just call me Harry; I don't even know what this First Lord business is about anyway."

The Healer looked shocked by this declaration but Firedome merely nodded his head and continued. "As I was saying, it is my belief that several magical or mental blocks have been placed upon Harry. These create problems when he comes under the grip of some strong emotion."

Winterfrost nodded her head and, standing, motioned for Harry to do the same. As he did so, the Healer pulled her wand from her sleeve.

"I will need to do several scans of your person and magical core to determine if this is true, and the strength of the bonds." With this the woman began to wave her want in a complicated combination of flicks, twists, and turns. She recited a lengthy spell in Latin and stood for a minute studying the results.

Harry assumed that the spell had worked, though he couldn't see anything and had only felt a small shiver run up his spine, because what little color had been in the Healers face drained away.

Firedome came around the desk and grabbed the Healers arm to steady her when she wavered. After a few seconds the woman blinked and turned amazed eyes upon Harry.

"How is it you can do magic at all? How is it you are still alive?"

These words frightened Harry more then he cared to admit. It was the tone more than the words that sent goose bumps racing down his body. The Healer sounded equal parts horrified and incredulous. She repeated her test once more only to shake her head when she received the same result. Shaking off Firedomes hand Winterfrost resumed her seat and motioned that the others should do the same. The goblin did so only after pulling the bell and requesting a fresh service of tea for the three of them.

Once the tea had arrived and everyone had a few minutes to savor theirs, Harry turned to the Healer, "What did you find? I assume by your reaction that there are blocks, what did you mean, I shouldn't be alive or doing magic?"

The Healer took one last gulp of her tea before replacing her cup and saucer on the tray. "Yes, there are blocks, very strong ones in fact. So strong and so numerous are these blocks that you should either be a squib or in brain dead."

Harry reared back in his seat at this pronouncement. Brain dead?

The Healer continued, "A block is typically placed on a child when that child displays strong magic at a very early age. This is not unusual, and is normally removed slowly as the child grows and develops. Blocks can also be placed on children that display unusual abilities, such as metamorphamagus abilities, this prevents the parents from losing the child should the child change his or her appearance. These are all traditional and widely used magical blocks. The ones I found on your, however, are anything but."

"You have blocks, Harry, that I have never seen placed on a person as old as yourself, unless that person was mentally unstable. Despite what might be written in the Daily Prophet, I do not believe that you are mentally unstable. You have the traditional childhood magical block; my scan indicates that this block was placed before you were a year old, probably by your parents. I can only assume everyone thought it had been removed prior to your arrival at Hogwarts. The second block I found was one that inhibited a natural metamorphamagi talent. This one was placed about eight years ago, do you remember it happening?"

Harry was startled at the news that he was a metamorphamagus. Then he remember the time his aunt had cut his hair only to have it grow back overnight. Petunia had been so upset the next morning Harry had been locked in his cupboard for three days. He remembered the incident as well as a few more, like trying to squeeze through a fence to escape Dudley, wishing he were skinnier, and sliding through without the slightest hitch. What he didn't remember, however, was anyone placing a block on him. In fact, as far as he remembered he had never seen any magic since coming to his relatives before Hagrid had told him about Hogwarts. He told the other as much and watched the Healer nod her head as if confirming a theory. Firedome just made another notation in the book at his elbow.

"I thought was much. There are several blocks on you that I classify as mental blocks. These prevent you from remembering certain things; they are often used in place of the Obliviate charm on children as they have no harmful side effects. Children that have been abused or seen murders and other violent crimes often have such blocks placed on them. You have several of these; the combined effect would prevent you from remembering several large pieces of your past. Unfortunately, another side effect of having so many, is that your ability to learn and remember things would be greatly impeded, as would your ability to perform certain mental exercises."

"Exercises such as Occlumency?" asked Harry in a low voice.

The Healer looked startled by his knowledge of the mind art but answered the question, "Why yes, it would be impossible for someone with so many blocks to occlude their mind, in fact, such an attempt would only open the mind further."

Harry was furious now, who ever had placed these blocks on him had prevented him from learning the skill necessary to keep Voldemort out of his mind, which would have saved Sirius' life.

Healer Winterfrost was speaking again, "All of these blocks are very powerful. Normally a block works the same way a muggle dam does, holding back the majority of the water in a reservoir but letting a little trickle out through tunnels. In your case, the 'water' or magic as it is, has been blocked so much as to only allow for a trickle to get through."

A smile had come to Harry's face at the muggle metaphor; he remembered reading about dams during his primary school education.

"In most people," continued Winterfrost, "this trickle would only be enough to sustain their lives, turning them into a squib. It is a testament to your strength that you are able to do spell and are even considered to be quite a powerful wizard."

Harry blushed slightly at the compliment. "What about the mental blocks?"

"Those as equally powerful. Normally you would have the sensation that something was wrong or had happened to you," remarked the woman, "but the strength behind the block and number of them..." here she faltered.

"You should not be able to function at all," finished Firedome for her.

Harry felt that familiar shiver go through his body, this person, whoever they were, could have destroyed him.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes thinking about what a near miss that had been. Finally Harry spoke up, "well can they be removed?"

"Yes," said the Healer, "but because of the number and strength, it will need to be done over a period of a month. We don't want to take everything off so quickly as to damage your mind or magical core."

Harry looked over at Firedome and nodded his head to the reason. "All right, I'm not going back to the Dursleys so I guess I have plenty of free time this summer. Where would you recommend we do this?" Harry had turned back to face the Healer for his last question.

Firedome was the one who answered it though, "There is a settlement in Russia I would recommend, far enough from here as to avoid any danger from Voldemort and his followers. It is a human and goblin settlement."

Winterfrost nodded her head, "I am familiar with the compound. I will meet you there as soon as I can wrap up some business here." With that the Healer stood and walked quietly out of the room.

Alone once again with Firedome, Harry took some time to just breathe. He had been delivered many great shocks over the last few hours and he needed a minute to collect himself.

While Harry sat in silence, Firedome had rung the bell and was talking quietly near the door with another goblin, presumably making arrangements for Harry to go to this place in Russia. Once the goblin had left Firedome reseated himself behind his desk and began making notations in his book.

"Harry," murmured the cultured voice of the goblin, "I have ordered some dinner to be brought in. It is best that we commence with the inheritance ritual as soon as we have replenished ourselves." Just as he finished the statement a line of goblins entered, all wearing the same livery that Harry had noticed earlier. One removed the tea tray from earlier and another replaced it with a much larger silver tray, this one weighed down with an array of dishes all hidden by silver dome covers. A third goblin whisked away the covers to reveal a mouth watering assortment of food. The goblins lefts as quietly as they had entered.

A good half hour passed while Harry and Firedome ate; neither talking but feeling comfortable in the silence. Harry polished off a filet mignon grill with red wine, garlic, and balsamic vinegar, he worked steadily through a pile of fresh spring greens with a light cream dressing, and savored immensely the warm bread that was perfectly crisp on the outside. The chocolate soufflé was amazing and melted in his mouth.

Once they had finished Firedome called to have the tray removed. As soon as the door was closed the goblin walked to the fireplace the opened a hidden panel. From the dark recess he removed a wooden box about the size of a loaf of bread. Closing the panel he carried the box to the desk and, instead of returning behind the desk, Firedome seated himself beside Harry with the box on his knee.

"We don't perform this ritual often, mainly because there isn't a lot of call for it. Most families know their own lineage well enough to not need the service." Firedome opened the box and removed a wickedly sharp looking dagger and a thick roll of a strange red parchment. These he placed in front of Harry and set the now empty box off to the side.

"The ritual itself is ludicrously simple; a few drops of your blood on this parchment and a list will appear of those families you have inherited from." With a motion from Firedome, Harry held out his hand over the parchment that had been partially unrolled on the desk. A quick motion and a few drops of blood began to pool in the palm of his hand. Firedome took a hard grip on Harry's wrist and tilted the hand until the blood slid down and dropped slowly onto the paper. There was a small spark of light with every drop that hit the paper. Writing in a swirly script began to appear in black ink. First one name, then another, and another, until after twenty minutes fifteen names were assembled on the paper.

Harry had starred with growing amazement at each name that had appeared. By the last name he was nearly in shock, "Why so many names?"

"You must realize Harry, that the last hundred years have been particularly hard on wizarding England, with the rise and fall of Grindelwald and the rise, fall, and return of Voldemort, many families have been wiped out, and many of those families had wills leaving everything they had to even the most tenuously connected relation. After the first rise of Voldemort many families left everything to 'whoever defeated the Dark Lord' which turned out to be you. Now," here Firedome took up the list and ran his eyes over it, "the first two names on this list are to be expected, Potter and Black, and the next twelve names are all small families that have disappeared as I have previously talked about. One name however, is most interesting. I don't know if anyone has inherited this name in the last few thousand years. It is the name of Vindexly, and while not holding much legal status in the modern world, it is a name that will take you far in most of the more revered circles. It also grants you the title of Lord Vindexly."

Firedome refused to say more on the subject and insisted on getting Harry ready to travel to Russia. Night had fallen outside the bank and they both knew Harry's disappearance wouldn't go unnoticed for long. The goblin rang the bell one last time and requested a few things in a tone too low for Harry to make out specific words beyond, 'please', 'First Lord', and 'bring'. In a matter of minutes the attendant goblin had returned with a large cloth bundle which Firedome took.

Unfolding the bundle, a shimmery cloak was exposed. "This is a Lateo Cloak; it works similarly to an invisibility cloak. The wearer can be seen but the viewer will be unable to recount specific details of their appearance. A useful thing when one wants to go unseen but without the worry of bumping into things. The cloak will also change into any form of appropriate outerwear. It will remain a cloak in the wizarding world, but in the muggle world it might resemble a coat or blazer. In different social settings it will change too, depending on the call for formality."

The next thing held up was a small bag of an indeterminate brown. "This is a mokeskin pouch. It can hold anything you wish to place in it and will never get heavier then it is now. It has been magically linked to Gringotts so that you may send and receive mail and other packages while you are in Russia. you only need to tap your wand against the bag and say 'outgoing' and the name of the thing you are sending, and 'incoming' to receive something. The bag will vibrate slightly when there is something for you. If you wish to simply place things into the bag, just place them inside and say 'storage' say it again to retrieve things."

Harry took the bag and starred at it, wouldn't Hermione love to have one of these, all the books she can carry with none of the weight.

Finally Firedome handed Harry a wallet and a red British passport. "The wallet contains a Gringotts card that will work equally in either wizarding or muggle society. Inside the billfold are a couple hundred pounds in small notes. I have also provided several blank Gringotts bank drafts for if the establishment doesn't accept the card. The passport currently looks like a British one but is charmed to resemble the one used by any country you might be leaving. So when you leave Russia, the passport with resemble in every way the Russian passport."

Harry opened the wallet and took out the black Gringotts card; there was a silver set of scales placed behind the large gold Gringotts G. He replaced the card and stuffed the dark leather wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

Firedome held out a golden pocket watch to Harry, "this is your portkey to Russia, it will activate in another few minutes. Hang onto it, it's very special."

Harry took the watch and looked over at the goblin, "There is still one question I have; you keep calling me First Lord, what does that mean? Healer Winterfrost seemed shocked that I didn't already know."

Firedome sighed and looked at the young man. "There is a rather long history behind that title; I will try to break it down for you. In our world, the wizarding world, long ago, there was a council of twenty families, by strength of magic and personality these families led the whole the of the wizarding world. Since the creation of this council, thousands of years have gone by. All but six of the families have died out. These families still rule the wizarding world today."

"And I'm one of these six?" Harry had a hard time imagining that his family had lasted that long when so many others had died or could be that powerful as to rule the wizarding world.

"Yes, you Harry are the First Lord of the six families."

"What does that mean?"

Firedome looked at his pocket watch and back at Harry, "It means you are the leader of the families, you rule the council."

And with those parting words, Harry was swept away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Meanwhile...**

Dumbledore starred around the room. A small broken down bed with dirty sheets was pushed against the center of the back wall, sticking into the room like a jetty into the sea. 'The sea' in this case, was a rather worn wood floor that could once have been beautiful but was now closer in color to saw dust with plenty of scratches and scuffs. Against the left wall, tilted precariously to one side, its right legs propped up with a small stack of books, was an old soft brown wooden desk. The color was faded in some places and rings could be seen where glasses had been set and left too long. On the other side of the room, directly across from the desk and matching in color, was a wardrobe. It was almost six feet in height and had two hinged doors on the front, the left of which was hanging crookedly but a single screw. Piles of broken and discarded toys lay on either side of the wardrobe; they made a colorful display of overindulgence and materialism. It was a sad testament that the parents would still purchased new things despite the child's clear disregard for the objects. There was only one thing missing from this room, a prefect cage with the numerous locks on the exterior of the door, the child that was supposed to live there.

News had spread fast from the Order guard on duty; Harry Potter had not arrived at #4 Privet Drive with his family. Somewhere between Kings Cross Station and home, Harry Potter had vanished. Once the guard, one Dedalus Diggle, had assured himself that the boy was really and truly missing, he had rushed to the closest floo connection, located at Arabella Figgs' house on Wisteria Walk.

Knocking urgently on the door, Diggle waited impatiently for Arabella to answer. Once she appeared in her traditional housecoat and tartan slippers, he pushed passed her and dove for the fireplace.

"Dedalus, what's gotten into you? What's wrong?" Arabella had closed the door and stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the man on his knees in her living room.

"He's gone, he's disappeared! I must tell Dumbledore!" with that Diggle threw a handful of floo powder into the flames shouted, "Headmasters Office, Hogwarts," and stuck his head through.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore!" shouted the panicked man in the flames.

The Headmaster walked calmly in from the other room, "Dedalus, what can I do for you? Aren't you supposed to be on guard duty?"

"Yes, I was, that's why I called..."

Dumbledore interpreted him here, "Is something wrong? Has something happened to Harry?"

He's gone Headmaster; he never arrived with his relatives."

Dumbledore shook his head and brought his thoughts out of the past. That conversation had been two hours ago and since then no news had turned up as to the location of Harry Potter.

The elderly wizard had immediately gone to Privet Drive and spoken with the Dursleys. That conversation hadn't gone well, with lots of yelling and cursing but finally the story had come out. Harry had bribed his relatives to drop him off in London and they had done so for a few gold galleons, regardless of the health and safety of the boy.

Just recently news had reached Dumbledore that Harry might have been spotted at The Leaky Cauldron. No one could say for sure if it was Harry Potter, the build and hair color was the same but the person had kept his head down and avoided eye contact.

So here Dumbledore was, in the smallest bedroom at #4 Privet Drive, trying to discover where Harry might have gone. He glanced around at the broken toys and wondered if Harry had ever gotten to play with any of them. Despite the common misconception, Dumbledore was not completely unaware of the situation Harry lived in. He knew that the Dursleys held no love for magic and would be strict with the boy; what he didn't know, what he would never guess at, was the true level of hatred that filled the family for the boy. If they had know how to contact Voldemort Harry would have been turned over to him long ago.

But Dumbledore didn't know any of this; he thought that any degree of strictness would be offset by the blood wards that insured Harry's safety. This was why, despite many pleadings to remain at Hogwarts, the Headmaster had insisted he return to Privet Drive.

He didn't think he would find anything here, after all Harry had never returned here after the school semester, but he couldn't help having a look around.

As the elderly wizard walked around the room, he was curious to notice a pronounced creaking as he trod on the floor to one side of the bed. He gave a slight wave of his wand, and the bed scooted across the floor about a foot. This rearrangement exposed a loose and slightly warped floorboard. With another wave of his wand, Dumbledore removed the panel and drew out a single envelope. Slightly messy writing on the front informed the Headmaster that the missive was for him. On the other side a gold wax seal bore the symbol of a lion. Breaking the seal, Dumbledore drew out the parchment.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore:_

_If you are reading this then I have left Privet Drive. I don't know when you are reading this so I'll tell you a little about why I may have left._

_Today is July 2, the summer after my forth year. It has been about a month since Cedric died and all I can think about is, it could have and should have been me. Cedric shouldn't have died when all Voldemort wanted was me. I have come to realize after at least four attempts on my life, Voldemort will not just let me live my life; he's going to kill me some day, or keep trying until I kill him. Until then, everyone I love or even know is in danger of being killed like Cedric._

_With this realization I have decided that before I die I want to live. I want to experience things in my life; magic beyond Hogwarts, culture outside Privet Drive, and history away from goblin rebellions. I want to meet people and see places. I have never even seen the ocean and the United Kingdom is an island! I don't know what has happened between writing this letter and you reading it. I do know that the first chance I get to live; I'm going to take it._

_I want to assure you Sir, that I will not be irresponsible with my safety. I do not want to die, the whole purpose of leaving Privet Drive is to live after all, and I will be taking lots of precautions. I have only one request for you; please do not try to find me. I want to experience life before I die._

_Since you are reading this, I must still be attending Hogwarts, I will make you this promise; I will be on the Hogwarts Express come September 1. I will finish my schooling; I just want a little freedom._

_I know you mean well Sir, but I can't stand another summer locked up here with maybe a few weeks of companionship near the end. So forgive me for what I must do._

_Respectfully yours;_

_Harry James Potter_

Dumbledore folded the letter carefully and tucked it back into the envelope. He gave a big sigh and turned toward the door and the man standing there. This man was old with dark gray hair hanging limply around his muscular shoulders. Despite his advanced age the man was still physically fit, notwithstanding the missing leg and plethora of scars that marred his body, with broad shoulders and a heavily muscled frame. Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody was leaning against the doorframe, his clear blue eyes focused on the Headmaster and his explorations of the room. Every once in a while his magical right eye would spin around and investigate a noise somewhere else in the house.

"Alastor," the voice called the ex-auror back to the prestigious wizard in the center of the room. "Please gather the Order; we have a boy to find."

Three Hours Later...

If someone were to look out over the Hogwarts grounds they would be able to see small groups of hooded and cloaked figures approaching the front doors. Once one group of two or three had entered the castle, another small group would enter through the gates and begin the long trek up to the Headmasters office.

After about three quarters of an hour all the members had arrived and were settled around Dumbledore's office. Since the death of Sirius Black they could no longer use 12 Grimmauld Place. The house had sealed itself shut after the death of the last remaining Black. So the Order of the Phoenix was forced to move its meeting to Hogwarts till a more suitable location could be found.

The normally cozy office had been enlarged for the meeting and a long table placed in the center. Plush high backed chairs were placed around the dark mahogany table. Some were filled with people but most were empty as people milled around, greeting and conversing with their fellow Order members.

Nymphadora Tonks stood with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Molly Weasley off to one side of the room.

"So what do you think this meeting is about," the pink haired woman asked her superior.

"I'm not sure," responded Shacklebolt, "we just had a meeting last week so it must be pretty important." The dark skinned auror looked around the room at the multitude of people gathered. "Some of the people here tonight are not usually called for anything less."

"I think you are right," spoke up Molly. "With school just released today it must be something pretty important to pull everyone away from their families." The red haired woman was thinking of her two youngest children, just arrived from Hogwarts and barely settled before she left, and her husband, still in Saint Mungo's after being attacked by Nagini. She was anxious to return to the family that needed her.

Just as Tonks was about to say more, Albus Dumbledore and Mad Eye Moody walked into the room.

"Please be seated everyone," rang the clear voice of the Headmaster over the other voices in the room.

Everyone who had been standing around selected and occupied a seat. Once everyone was settled Dumbledore cleared his throat and began.

"Thank you all for being here and coming at such short notice. I know that you are very eager to be with your families. However, there has been a disturbing development that I needed to share with you immediately."

There was a second of silence before Minerva McGonagall spoke up, "What is it Albus? Is it Voldemort?"

The blue eyes of the Headmaster that looked at the woman were without their usual twinkle. "In a way this concerns Voldemort. I want to let you know that Harry Potter has disappeared from his relative's home."

At these words chaos erupted in the room. People jumped to their feet and started yelling at each other, blaming anyone they could for the disaster. Molly dissolved into tears and buried her head in her hands, sobbing loudly. Remus Lupin collapsed into his chair, in shock at the loss of the last member of his family.

Tonks looked at the Headmaster with tears in her eyes, she hadn't spent much time with the kid but she had really liked him. "Is he really gone Professor? Is he...d-dead?"

"Dead?" Dumbledore looked surprised by this question. "No he's not dead."

There was a sudden hush at these words. The shaky voice of Hestia Jones spoke up, "He's not dead? But I thought you just said Voldemort had him?"

The sharp voice of Severus Snape lashed out before Dumbledore could respond. "If you would calm down and listen, you would have heard that the Headmaster said the boy had disappeared, not been kidnapped or taken."

"Quite right Severus," spoke up Dumbledore before an argument could break out. "As far as we know Harry is simply missing. I said this concerns the Dark Lord because we must find Harry before he does."

Questions rushed at the aged wizard from every angle, everyone wanting to know more. Dumbledore held up his hands, "If you would all return to your seats I will explain."

After everyone had been seated again he did just that, explaining about the emergency floo call from Dedalus Diggle calling him to Privet Drive. Of finding Harry missing and the following interview with the Dursleys. Finally at the end of the explanation Dumbledore added, "Recently, we have received confirmation from several shop owners and patrons that Harry was indeed seen in Diagon Alley soon after the train reached London."

He held up his hands again to waylay questions. He brought out the letter he had found at Privet Drive. "This letter is from Harry and I found it waiting for me at his home. It expressed his desire to 'life' as he explains it, before he has to meet the Dark Lord. It also asks that we not look for him. It is because of this letter that I have called you here today. We must find Harry before he has a chance to leave."

Voices broke out again, this time in rapid whispers. Some people wanted to respect Harry's wishes but the majority wanted to drag him back where he belonged; safe and sound at his relatives where he could be watched over night and day.

Molly's voice was one of the loudest, "We have to get him back; anything could happen to him! It's too dangerous for him to be out on his own."

More quiet voices, like those of Tonks and Remus, wanted to give Harry the chance to experience life. They knew from a few conversations with Harry and his friends that the young man had never really had a chance to enjoy life. They saw this disappearance as a last desperate attempt at a little freedom.

"Everyone, if you would please calm down," once again the aged wizard had his hands raised, petitioning everyone to be silent. "We must find Harry before he has a chance to leave, so I want all of you to explore places in both the muggle and wizarding worlds where Harry might go. Places like floo and portkey stations in Diagon and the other magical Alleys. Search Bus and train stations as well as airports in the muggle world. Bill," here the man turned to the eldest Weasley son, "You and I are going to Gringotts to have Harry's accounts frozen, and he can't go anywhere if he doesn't have funds."

"With all due respect Headmaster," started Bill, "I could lose my job for making such a request. It is against the bank policy for an employee of the bank to make such a request."

Dumbledore nodded his head, excepting Bills reason. He would go alone then. "Thank you all for your cooperation, please report back with any information you might find. Another meeting will be called in a few days. And with that, this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is called to a close."

With that the members gathered their belongings and began to file out of the room and out of the school. Surreptitious glances were shared between Remus and Tonks, a promise to meet later. This silent promise was observed by several others throughout the room who likewise vowed to meet up with the werewolf and the clumsy auror.

Once his office was cleared, Dumbledore vanished the long table and chairs, reverting his office back into its typical state. After that, it was just a quick floo trip to Gringotts and the most unwelcome surprise of his life.


	4. Chapter 4: Sarovo

**Chapter 4: Sarovo**

Harry landed on his back.

After the portkey activated Harry was swept away to the eastern slope of the southern Ural Mountains, just above Kazakhstan. And he landed on his back, again, like always. Harry shook his head as he climbed to his feet; he really needed to figure out how to stay on his feet.

Once he had gained his feet Harry took a look around. He had landed in a small clearing surrounded by trees and bushes. Some of these trees Harry recognized from books and Herbology classes. Trees like oak, maple, birch, pine, and spruce were interspaced with berry bushes like cloudberry and bilberry. Moss and lichen covered the ground and lower portions of the trees.

The air was fresh and filled with the smells of dirt and decaying leaves. Harry took a few deep breaths and was startled to catch the faint trace of wood smoke. Just as he was about to move toward the smell, a figure detached itself from the shadow of the trees.

The figure was a goblin, of average height, dressed in brown linen shirt that laced at the throat and dark brown leather pants that were tucked into knee high sturdy black boots. The goblin carried with him a satchel of some kind of white hide.

"First Lord Potter?"

The words were more of a statement then a question but Harry decided to answer anyway, "Yes, I'm Harry Potter, who are you? Where am I?"

The goblin had reached Harry and held out his hand in greeting, "I am Bloodsaw, Gringotts liaison here at Sarovo."

Harry took the hand in strong grip and gave it a good shake, "Nice to meet you Bloodsaw. Could you please explain a little about why I am here and what Sarovo is?"

"If you would come with me First Lord, I will explain some things as we walk."

Harry and Bloodsaw set off in the direction the goblin had come from, which was also the direction the smoke was coming from. "Sarovo is a magical settlement located in the Southern Ural Mountains in Russia. It is a joint goblin-human settlement with the humans coming from every country in the world. The only way to find Sarovo is to be given a portkey by one of the Chief goblins at a Gringotts location."

They had exited the woods while Bloodsaw talked, and were approaching a scene that could have been taken out of the middle ages. The houses were stone or wood of the Tudor style with diamond paned windows and wooden shingled roofs. The roads were dirt or cobblestone and a few carts were set off to the side peddling wares. Bloodsaw lead Harry along the central road and toward a large white building that bore the Gringotts seal.

"You, First Lord Potter..."

"Please don't; just call me Harry or even Mr. Potter." Harry still hasn't recovered from the shock Firedome had delivered. He was one of the six people in the whole world that governed the wizarding world. He was the leader of this council, he lead the people that lead the whole world. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. But as far as he knew, he didn't want to be called First Lord until he knew what it really meant for him.

"Very well. As I was saying Mr. Potter, you are here to grow up. To have the blocks removed from your mind and magic. This process will take quite some time as the blocks are so numerous and strong."

"I have to be back at Hogwarts on September 1. Will this take longer than that?"

"Do you have the pocket watch that Chief Goblin Firedome gave you?"

Harry pulled the watch out of his jeans pocket and held it out.

"Good, now this watch is very special. It can affect the flow of time."

"You mean it's a time turner?"

"No, a time turner can take a person back a set number of hour, days, even weeks. But you always run the risk of causing problems with the time stream. That pocket watch does something quite different, but it's rather hard to explain. It doesn't stop time, slow time, or take the user back in time; instead the user will just always have enough time. No matter what you are doing or where you are going you will always have enough time to finish and arrive just on time."

"So, instead of measuring time in seconds, minutes, hours, days and so on, it measures time by the amount of things needed to be done?"

"That's it exactly," the goblin seemed relieved that Harry understood the concept.

"If that is really true, then no matter what I do this summer, I will be in time to catch the Hogwarts Express."

Bloodsaw nodded his head.

By this time the two figures had reached the doors of the white building. It was almost exactly like the Gringotts found in Diagon Alley except much smaller. Bloodsaw was reaching for the door when it was suddenly pulled open from the inside.

Framed in the doorway was Healer Winterfrost, a pleasant smile on her face and wearing the same healer regalia as earlier with the addition of a white fur lined cloak. With a wave of her hand, Bloodsaw and Harry were ushered into the bank.

The inside of the bank was much cozier then its western counterpart. To the right of the door was a small sitting area, made up of a large leather sofa and two matching leather arm chairs situated in a square. The leather was tan and looked well worn in places. A marble topped coffee table sat midway between the sofa and chairs. A colorful but faded rug covered the floor underneath. The right side of the room was taken up by a fireplace so large three grown men could stand within. A short marble counter stood near the rear of the room. Two goblins were behind it, directing the few patrons through one of the two doors that stood on either side of the counter. One led to the tunnels where withdrawals were made and the other to a series of offices where deposits were made. The whole room was lit by a series of bronze sconces along the walls, giving off a soothing glow.

Bloodsaw lead Harry toward the back of the room and through the door at the right of the counter, the one leading to the offices. The two men and Healer Winterfrost walked decisively down the polished floor, so similar to those in England, and through a large wooden door with ornate bronze fastenings.

The office that was exposed was about half the size of Firedomes, but no less richly decorated. Beautiful oil paintings decorated the walls, the subjects ranged from turbulent seascapes that occasionally revealed the shimmer of a mermaid tail, to gentle pastures crowded with grazing unicorns. The walls were lined with solid oak bookshelves, some shielded with glass to protect their valuable contents. Bloodsaw lead the way across the room and took the high backed leather chair standing behind a massive oak desk. He waved a hand to indicate that Harry and the Healer should also be seated. Once the two were comfortable the door opened to admit a tall man in the Gringotts livery bearing a tea tray which was set down on the desk.

Harry took a moment to study the man. He was taller than Harry by several inches, but his lean build made him seem even taller. His hair was a light brown streaked with blond, long enough in the front to hang in warm brown eyes.

Bloodsaw had notices Harry's scrutiny, "Mr. Potter, I would like to introduce you to Mikhail Barkov, my assistant and the man who will primarily be responsible for your education and edification while you are here with us in Sarovo."

Harry stood and shook the hand offered to him, surprised by the warm firm grasp. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Barkov."

"You as well First Lord, it is my prerogative to help you in any way I can while you are here." Mikhail smiled widely at Harry as he released his hand and went to stand behind the goblin.

Harry returned the smile and resumed his seat, accepting the proffered cup of earl gray tea.

"Now," started Bloodsaw, "that we have all been introduced let me tell you a little more about where you are and why you are here. What has Firedome told you thus far about Sarovo?"

Careful not to scald his tongue, Harry took a hasty gulp of tea before setting his cup down with a small clatter. "Firedome didn't tell me much and most of which you know, beyond the fact that I would be staying here for a while to have mental and magical blocks removed, he said that I would be relatively safe from Voldemort."

The goblin was nodding his head slowly and picked up the explanation when Harry stopped. "Yes as I said earlier, no one can enter this community without a special portkey. This is because the whole village is under an array of charms and wards keeping strangers away and erasing the memory of anyone who leaves; anyone that is, who has not been given a countercharm. People of high position, like yourself and the Chief Goblins of Gringotts, are given a token that allows them to come and go freely from the community."

"Isn't that a bit harsh? To just rip the memory out of everyone like that? What about vendors and people you purchase things from?"

"Very good questions," Bloodsaw smiled at Harry's strong sense of morals, his was a refreshing change from most wizards who felt it was their right as 'superior' beings to erase the memory from any one they wished. "The memory isn't completely taken, just the specifics. People will still remember that they spent time in a small village in Russia and that they learned a good deal and that the village was very unusual. They will not remember what the name is, how they got here, or even that it is in the Ural Mountains. This is done to prevent people who have finished their business here from returning with friends or governments. You see, Sarovo is a completely neutral settlement, free from government entanglements and open to every race, gender, species, and class regardless of the policies of the person's place of origin."

This time Harry nodded his head, it made sense to have some safe guards to prevent the village being controlled by governments. Governments who might prevent people who really needed help from getting it just because they were what the government might classify as 'creatures'.

"As for the vendors," continued the goblin, "they are given a special charm that, while not revealing the express location of the village, allows them to remember that they have business in the area. They return to a clearing, the same one I found you in, and meet with a guide who brings them to the village for the day. As you might understand, we don't invite vendors very often, we prefer to grow what we can and only have strangers come a few times a month. As soon as the business is concluded, the vendors are shown out, their memories erased, and returned to the clearing with knowledge that they did very profitable business and should return in a couple of weeks."

"That makes sense," stated Harry. "So I won't have my memory erased when I leave?"

The answer this time came from the quiet man standing behind Bloodsaw, "No, because of your rank as First Lord, and your authority over all magical beings and their settlements, you have the right to come and go anywhere you wish, it would be illegal for us to erase your memory and prevent you from returning. In fact, it is in our interests to have you knowledgeable of Sarovos' existence."

"In your interest; what do you mean?"

"Well," here Bloodsaw took up the explanation, "as First Lord you can solve any dispute that might call for a higher authority. Say, if a government does discover our existence and wants us to fall under their control, you could step in and declare us neutral and under your protection. Now," here Bloodsaw had to raise a hand to forestall Harry's protest, "we are not saying that is what would or will happen, it is just an example of the type of dispute you could pass judgment on."

"But I don't want to pass judgment on anything, I don't know enough to do something like that. I'm only 15 for Merlin's sake." Harry was starting to get a tad hysterical at the sudden responsibility thrust upon him.

"And that is what Mikhail is here for," stated the goblin. "He will teach you everything you will need to know about politics as well as any other subjects you might be interested in."

Mikhail stepped forward, "It would be my pleasure First Lord to prepare you for the role you will take. And there is no rush; we have the time you will ever need"

Harry calmed down a bit, these people weren't going to just throw him in to sink or swim. "You will teach me everything I need to know?"

"I will teach you all I can."

Harry nodded his head and turned to the woman beside him who had remained silent though this whole conversation. "Healer Winterfrost, you mentioned earlier that this healing process would take quite a lot of time due to the strength and number. Could you explain a little more about how things are going to happen?"

Winterfrost cleared her throat and set her now lukewarm cup of tea on the tray, "of course." Sitting up a little straighter, she glanced at the other two occupants of the room uncertainly.

"Mr. Potter, we could leave if you wish to discuss this privately with Healer Winterfrost," the offer came as Bloodsaw rose from the desk.

"No, it's alright, I trust you both to keep this information to yourselves. And it might be advantageous to have other aware of the situation in case something happens."

With a nod of understanding Bloodsaw resumed his seat.

"Well," started Winterfrost, "as I said earlier, you have numerous blocks on both your mental and magical abilities that vary in strength. Several of them are so broken down that they should barely be affecting you at all. Others are so strong as to prevent you from using more than a quarter of your abilities."

"Broken down? How did they get broken down?" asked Harry.

"Blocks such as these are placed over years, and the longer they are in place the more likely the person is to wear them down by sheer will power. People with strong wills are able to fight blocks to the point where they might begin to weaken or dissolve. From my earlier scans I was able to discern one magical block that is almost completely broken, which seems to have been broken about two years ago. Did something happen when you were about 13, that demanded you use an unusual amount of power?"

Harry thought back carefully before it came to him, "the dementors. When I was 13 Hogwarts was guarded by dementors, and every time I came near one I would hear my mother screaming and pass out. I went to my defense teacher and he taught me the patronus."

"The patronus? You cast a patronus charm when you were 13?" the question came in a hushed whisper from Mikhail. "Was it corporal?"

Disregarding the question Winterfrost spoke, "to case a patronus at age thirteen would call for an unusual amount of power, and the severity of your reaction to the dementors would have made you very motivated. Yes, that is most likely what caused that particular block to break down. Now that we have solved that mystery, let me answer your question."

Harry nodded.

"Once you are settled here, probably tomorrow, we will start slowly by breaking down your blocks. At most we can only remove one block a day; this ensures we don't damage your mind or magical core by releasing too much all at once. The stronger blocks will have to be removed over a series of days and maybe weeks or months."

"In the time between procedures," interrupted Bloodsaw, "you will be able to work with Mikhail preparing yourself for your role as First Lord and studying anything you would like to. This will give you time to rest and other things to focus on."

Harry did what he had been doing quite a lot that day, he nodded. "So other than the one procedure a day, I will be studying with Mikhail. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Of course Mr. Potter, you can do anything you like, short of leaving here at the moment. While you are undergoing these procedures it would be unwise to submit yourself to magical travel."

"You will also be under a strict nutrition and exercise program, young man," the Healer seemed to forget who she was talking to for a moment. "You are far too small."

Harry smiled at the thought of being taller. He had always known that his short stature and slight build were due largely to his mistreatment at the hands of the Dursleys. It would be great to no longer be the shortest male in his year.

"Now," Bloodsaw clapped his hands together, breaking into Harry's pleasant thoughts, "let's get you settled so that you can be refreshed for tomorrow."

With those words, everyone stood to their feet. Healer Winterfrost preceded the others out the door, followed by Mikhail, Harry and Bloodsaw bring up the rear. Once they had exited the building the Healer wished the others a goodnight and veered off in a different direction. Bloodsaw and Mikhail lead Harry toward the center of town.

Now that night had fallen the streets were much less crowded and Harry was able to get a better look at the village. Torches were set into some of the walls along the street, lighting the way for the few stragglers still walking the streets. Seeing the flames, a question came into Harry's mind.

"Why are you using torches? Why don't you use the fairy lights like Hogwarts? Or baring that, electric lights like the muggles?" Harry had noticed in the past that beyond a few open torches and braziers, Hogwarts seemed to be illuminated by some kind of invisible light source. Sometime around his second year he had decided to investigate the issue. After scouring the library he found in 'Hogwarts: A History' the answer. Because Hogwarts was a magical structure, inhabited generations of magical beings, lights called fairy lights were used. These lights absorbed a small amount ambient magic to remain lit. Upon entering his third year Harry had noticed that many of Hogsmeades streets were illuminated the same, though the lights were confined to posts like regular lamps.

Mikhail glanced at the torches and back to Harry, "Sarovo might be a magical settlement but not everyone who comes or lives here is magical. Fairy lights require a fairly constant flow of ambient magic to maintain them. Several races of magical beings are incompatible with fairy lights. Meaning they don't give off the correct type of magic to be absorbed. On the flip side, there is still too much ambient magic to allow for the use of muggle electricity. Torches provide a good substitute."

During this explanation Mikhail had led the others toward one of the houses off what seemed to be the central square of the village. This house was somewhat larger than the others around it; the cobbled street lead right up to a short set of stairs and a solid wood door with a brass knocker. There were two windows on either side of the door with shutters closed to block out the night. Three large windows were set into the second floor; two with shutters closed tight, cracks of light piercing the shadows around them. The last window wasn't shuttered but the room was dark beyond the diamond paned glass. The roof was wood shingles, with a rock chimney gently expelling sweet smelling smoke into the cloudless sky. Bushes and flowers formed a sleepy border around the edge of the house, buds closed tightly in the face of the night.

Harry ran his hand gently across the leaves of a plant he recognized from his aunts gardening books as a wild rosemary shrub, identified by its thin, almost furled leaves, and small five peddled white flowers. The strong scent that was stirred up by the touch was one Harry looked forward to smelling for many weeks.

Mikhail opened the front door when the three men had reached it, saying as he stepping into the flagstone entry, "This is my home, I hope you will be comfortable here."

"Harry looked around the entry way with its dark stone floors and white washed plaster walls. Two paintings were hung on opposite sides of the room from each other, each depicting distinguished men bearing a strong family resemblance to the lean man in the door way. "This is your home? I'm sure it will be wonderful." In truth, despite the lack of modern conveniences, the room looked much homier then the Dursleys ever had. "Do you live here alone?" Harry didn't want an inconvenience or underfoot of anyone who lived there.

Walking deeper into the room, Mikhail drew his wand and lit the candles liberally spaced around the room. The added light brought out the gold accents in the walls and the red veining in the stone floor, making the room seem much more elegant then it previously had. "I am currently the only one living here. This house had been in my family for five generations, though in recent history it has been opened to any dignitaries or high ranking visitors we might have."

Harry found himself standing, not in a single room as he had originally thought, but in a very wide hallway. To his left was a wide set of stairs with an intricately carved banister depicting native dancers frolicking with birds and wildlife. A single doorway opened on his right, the room beyond shielded from his eyes by a heavy drape of shadow. The hall in front of his wasn't terribly long, ending in a set of doors, flung open to reveal a kitchen, lit by a dancing hearth fire.

"I'm sure you would like a tour, but I'm afraid that will have to wait until the morning." The words came from Bloodsaw as the goblin indelicately smothered a yawn. "Now that I have assured myself that you are safely delivered to your lodging, I will bid you both a good evening." With that, the neat figure turned on his heels and walked into the night.

"Bloodsaw is correct; a tour will have to wait till morning." Mikhail led Harry to the left and up the stairs.

The upstairs landing opened up into a comfortable yet lavish sitting room. A neat array of couches and arm chairs in dove gray suede were centered in the room. Antiques from all over the world were displayed on polished teak tables. Harry saw golden headed figurines of Ra and Anubis sitting next to Ming vases and diamond encrusted Faberge Eggs. On a table against one wall was a whole collection of nesting dolls, intricately painted and highly polished, gleaming in the torch light. Four doors lead out form the room, three on the left side and one on the right. It was to the door on the right that Mikhail led Harry.

Mikhail opened the door and ushered Harry in but didn't go into the room himself. "This is your room; there is a bathroom through that door, and a closet through the one beside the bed." Mikhail motioned to the closed door across the room from the bed and the open one next to it. "If you need anything, my room is the first one on the left at the head of the stairs. I will see you in the morning First Lord." With that he closed the door behind him.

Harry looked around the room. The floors were stone like the rest of the house, but a thick green rug was spread over most of it, protecting the occupant's feet from the cold stone in the winter. A full length mirror dominated the wall to the left of the bathroom door. On the far wall, across from where Harry stood, was a beautiful mahogany Chippendale six drawer dresser. The room was dominated however, but a huge matching mahogany canopy bed. The four posts were elaborately carved, displaying unicorns and nymphs. The headboard showed a detailed scene of fawns and nymphs frolicking under willow trees. Harry found the combination of dark wood and whimsical scenes a perfect combination between masculine and feminine. The bedclothes were a geometric pattern of dark brown and bright green, again a perfect balance. Matching nightstands stood on either side of the mammoth bed.

One detail in the room surprised Harry though; at the foot of the bed was his school trunk. Walking over, Harry inspected the lock. Finding it still secure, Harry opened it with his key and assured himself that nothing had been tampered with. On top of his belongings Harry found a note from Firedome telling him that the goblin had taken the liberty of retrieving Harry's belongings from The Leakey Cauldron.

Harry gathered up his pajamas, a bright red cotton set Hermione had gotten him for Christmas last year, and his bath bag and went in to the bathroom.

This room was unlike any Harry had ever seen. Longer than it was wide, the right side of the room was partitioned off into a water closet, comprised of only a modern toilet. Straight in front of Harry was a row of counters with a double sink. Two large oval mirrors reflected the room back at him. The left side of the room was the most impressive though. A huge sunken tub sat in one corner of the room, big enough for three people to fit comfortably. In the other corner was a shower just as large with multiple nozzles and heads. The shelves around the room were stocked with bottles and oils and fluffy towels. Everything in the room was done in a neutral earth tone, making the room very relaxing.

Harry set his things on a shelf by the door, where they couldn't get wet. Stripping out of his robes and the over sized clothes beneath; Harry started the shower and jumped in. He would indulge in a long bath tomorrow, but for now he wanted to get to bed. Lifting a bottle full of a mint green liquid to his nose, Harry took a sniff. It smelled like pine trees and soap, just what he was looking for. Pouring a dollop into his hand he scrubbed it into his hair. Rinsing his hair Harry found another bottle that yielded regular soap and washed the rest of his body. Once he was clean Harry turned off the water and dried himself with a towel. It took only minutes for Harry to dress, brush his teeth and hair, and return to the bedroom. Minutes later the lights were off and Harry was fast asleep.


End file.
